


Sanctuary

by Coniferoussiblings



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, F/M, Light Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 19:32:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5061196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coniferoussiblings/pseuds/Coniferoussiblings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pacifica Northwest runs away from home and finds life on the road a little harder than she had anticipated - fortunately she is able to get help from a few old friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Pacifica stared at the numbers scrawled across the bottom half of the check, squirming uncomfortably in the slightly sticky vinyl seat of the diner booth as her eyes shifted back to the inside of her purse. A slim stack of bills poked out from the corner of her hot pink oblong wallet and a quick mental calculation brought her to the only possible conclusion.

_I don’t actually have enough to pay for this._

This wasn’t a situation that she’d ever run across before in her life. She’d known, in a kind of abstract way, that the money she’d taken two weeks ago wasn’t enough to last her forever but the fact that it was almost all gone this quickly was baffling.

For a moment she had just found herself completely bemused by the situation – it was almost like waking up one morning and discovering that she had grown an extra head in the middle of the night.

_I’m broke. Like, almost completely broke._

_I, Pacifica Elise Northwest, am now poor._

She glanced up around the restaurant and saw the other patrons quietly eating their breakfasts, waiters and waitresses moving silently between the tables like sour-faced ghosts. No one else seemed to have noticed her sudden revelation – actually nobody was paying her the slightest bit of attention, something she was still trying to get adjusted to even after a few weeks away from Gravity Falls. Inattentive as the staff was, she still knew that she couldn’t sit here staring at the check forever. Eventually someone was going to want payment.

_Are they going to throw me in jail? Am I going to get sent to prison over a rubbery omelet and a cup of the worst coffee I’ve ever had?_

_Oh my god they are aren’t they?_

_I’m going to spend the rest of my life behind bars for a crappy breakfast!_

She shook the rising tide of panic from her head and took a deep calming breath. It was just $12.95 – no one was going to throw her in solitary confinement for one hundred years over twelve dollars and ninety-five cents.

_They can’t even send me to real jail in the first place – I’m only seventeen. Minors don’t get sent to prison._

She gave a sigh of relief.

_So they’ll just call my parents…_

Any relief she’d felt before was now completely washed away by an even stronger wave of nausea and knuckle-whitening stress at the thought.

_I wonder if I can cut a deal with them so that they would just send me to jail instead? It might not be so bad – I bet I could even pull off those gross orange jumpsuits pretty well._

Her eyes drifted up from the battered Formica tabletop and out the window where her car sat gleaming in the parking space close by the door.

_Well, it’s come to this I guess._

She fished around the depths of her purse till she found an eyeliner pencil and her car keys. She scribbled a quick note of apology on the back of the check with the makeup and after a moment of deliberation she reached up and unhooked the small gold-and-diamond earrings from her ears and folded them inside the note.

The jewelry was almost certainly worth much more than anything on the diner menu, but she had a sneaking suspicion that the waitress who had taken her order probably have objected to being paid in earrings instead of cash. It would have to do though – even if she was broke she wasn’t going to be a thief.

Pacifica rose up from her seat on shaking legs and made her way toward the front of the restaurant with her purse clutched crushingly tight in her hand. The bored looking older woman behind the counter glanced up from her crossword and gave Pacifica a quizzical look as she neared the front door.

“Something the matter hon?” she asked, taken aback by the stressed expression on the girls face.

_Crap. What do I say?_

“Sorry!” Pacifica said, her voice coming out in a panicked yelp.

Before the cashier could ask what she was sorry about Pacifica was dashing out the door, her feet slamming hard through the parking lot gravel as she scrambled for her car.

* * *

There wasn’t a single moment that could be pinpointed as the exact cause for Pacifica’s decision to leave home – it had just popped into her head one day.

_Why am I still here?_

The idea had come as a surprise even to her as she had been lying awake at night in her overstuffed mattress listening to the weird howling calls of the peacocks stalking across the lawn. The idea that it was a choice was so new that it was almost frightening. Choices hadn’t been a big feature in her life up to this point and she puzzled over the idea. Why was she here?

It was obvious that she was unhappy.

_No, she thought, it’s more than that._

_I think I’ve almost never actually **been** happy._

Her relationship with her parents had never been as golden and sunny as the show they put on for the town, but ever since the night of the annual Northwest gala when she was twelve it had taken a very sharp downward turn. Her father, not used to being defied, had taken to acting as if she didn’t exist at times when he didn’t need her for a family photo opportunity for the papers. In some ways it was almost relaxing since she was left to her own devices most of the time, but it was also terribly lonely. Sometimes she even found herself missing the painful sound of the bell – at least when it rang it meant that he needed her for something or cared about what she was doing. She could have taken some solace in the fact that her mother hadn’t treated her any differently, but since she had spent over half her life staring at a mirror and only seemed to acknowledge Pacifica’s existence to compliment or criticize her outfits it wasn’t a heavy dose of comfort.

She had broken a century-and-a-half old family curse and saved her home as well as dozens of people from being burned to death, and for her troubles she was treated like a pariah by her stubborn pigheaded father.

The thought sent a sharp pulse of anger through Pacifica’s mind.

She had tried reaching out to him, but she may as well have been trying to befriend a statue. It had been almost five years since that night and things had never gotten better.

Well, in some ways her life had become slightly better – after that little adventure she’d made friends with the Pines twins and the time she had spent hanging out with them was always a welcome relief from the chill atmosphere of the manor. She had found herself counting down the days on the calendar whenever summer was drawing close for the time when she would get to see them again, feeling slightly pathetic for looking forward to their visits back to Gravity Falls so much. She couldn’t help it though – it was like a breath of fresh air to be able to really let her guard down around someone.

_Okay, so I don’t like it here. What can I do about it?_

The plan had begun to take shape almost immediately and she had slept more peacefully that night than she had in years.

* * *

She was twelve miles out of town before she stopped checking her rear-view mirror for signs of police pursuit. It took another ten miles before her heart had stopped its racing pulse and she was able to breathe calmly again. To Pacifica’s relief it seemed that a semi-dine and dash wasn’t worth calling in the police helicopters and starting up a manhunt.

This was the first time that she’d ever committed a crime… well, a real crime anyway. One that she could get punished for.

Sneaking onto the mini-golf course after dark as a child probably didn’t count since the town had all but worshipped her family, and a little money here and there would have made any fuss disappear.

She didn’t have that luxury anymore though.

Pacifica’s eyes drifted out to the miles of highway stretching out before her and wondered, not for the first time, just what she was supposed to do now.

The first few days away from home had been exhilarating. There had never been another time in her life when she had felt like this - waking up each morning in a different town and spending her days however she wanted, not worrying about keeping up appearances or disappointing anyone. Of course that was back when she still had a nice large wad of money at her disposal – the result of saving a few weeks’ worth of her usual allotment of pocket money. Even if her father wasn’t speaking to her as often he couldn’t let his daughter be seen going around town as poor as a commoner – that would have been an unacceptable breach of standards.

The money had run out faster than she’d ever expected after a week of staying at comfortable hotels and spending her money on amusements and she’d been forced to drastically cut back on her standards of living in the following days. The last motel she’d stayed at had been cramped and the rooms ground-in reek of ancient cigarette smoke had combined with the sharp smells of the detergents and cleaners used to sterilize it into something profoundly unpleasant. The whole place had an ugly atmosphere to it – a taint of secrets, desperate crimes & profound loneliness that seemed to seep into the skin just from being there.

_If you upgraded the décor a little bit it would feel just like home_ , Pacifica had thought to herself sarcastically.

Terrible as that place had been though even that was out of her price range now. She could possibly get by a while longer by selling the rest of the jewelry she’d brought along, but even that was just a temporary solution at best.

_Just where am I supposed to be going?_

For someone whose life had been planned and regimented for as long as she could remember the uncertainty was paralyzing.

* * *

She spent half the night lying uncomfortably stretched across the backseat of her car parked in a stand of trees far off the main road. The night sounds of the woods had been unnerving at first, but at the very least she knew that out here she was probably safe from any policemen tapping her windshield and arresting her for vagrancy.

_I wonder if my parents would even say anything if I went home?_

_Have they have even noticed I’ve been gone? They probably figured it out eventually if they started getting curious about why the house was so quiet lately._

It was a cold and miserable night, and as the sleepless hours dragged on she felt despair settle over her like a lead blanket. She couldn’t live like this. Sooner or later she’d have to go home… she wouldn’t be happy there but at least she wouldn’t starve to death.

Her stomach growled at her in agreement and she found herself thinking wistfully of the mediocre breakfast she’d eaten hours ago.

_I guess I should start heading home in the morning… it’s not like I even went that far._

She struggled her way out of the back seat and opened up the glove compartment to fish out the travel map. It felt weird to be using something so old fashioned instead of a regular GPS, but she had left her phone back in her room at Northwest Manor so that she’d be harder to find. Pacifica squinted hard at the tiny lines in the dim light of the cars overhead lighting, trying to find just how far the last town she’d visited was from the main highway back to Gravity Falls. As she unfolded the creased paper a colorful cardboard square tumbled out and landed softly on her lap. She picked the object up, curious about it and felt a smile creep its way onto her lips despite her gloomy mood when she recognized it – a birthday card from Mabel and Dipper. She’d gotten it in the mail a few months ago around the time that her parents had given her the car in a big showy display in front of the rest of the townsfolk. Of the two presents the card had been her favorite by far - it was clearly handmade and absolutely encrusted with glitter, sequins and little plastic googly eyes for some reason. Just touching it always left her hands shiny for days no matter how hard she scrubbed them.

Her parents naturally didn’t approve of her contact with the Pines, especially Dipper, and she’d kept the card hidden here where it wouldn’t be ‘accidentally’ thrown out.

She felt her mood lift up slightly as she ran her fingertips along the ends of the card, flipping it open to read the inscription once again – a short goofy poem by Mabel written in a rainbows worth of colored pencils as well as a small but sincere sounding message from Dipper in neat lines of black ink.

_I wonder if they miss me?_

Flipping over the map revealed the envelope that the card had fallen out of and as she slipped it back into place she glanced at the return address and then at the map in her lap, the tip of her well-manicured nail idly tracing a line from Piedemont, California over to her present location.

It was far, but still closer than the drive back to Gravity Falls and she felt the spark of impulse she’d felt at the sight of the card start to grow stronger.

She gnawed her lower lip with indecision.

_Should I?_

_What would they say? What would I say? What if it’s super awkward?_

She leaned back in the seat of the car, the internal debate raging in her head.

_What the hell_ , she finally concluded, _I can at least see about visiting them before I have to go back._

_It would be nice to go somewhere where someone might be happy to see me._


	2. Chapter 2

Pacifica had an actual goal to look forward to now, and the focus it gave her was invigorating after two weeks of aimless wandering. A quick stop at a local library to use the internet gave her directions straight over to the twins’ house, and a second stop at a pawn shop had supplied her with enough funds for gas and food after she parted with a sapphire studded tennis bracelet which she’d never particularly cared for. The amount she’d been paid for the gaudy trinket had seemed criminally low considering its true value but she’d accepted the price with only a half-hearted argument and after stopping at a roadside diner for a burger she felt that she’d made the right decision. All the sapphires in the world weren’t worth half as much as a mouthful of food to a hungry person.

Even after taking every shortcut she could find on the map the needle of the gas tank had still dropped dangerously close to ‘E’ by the time Pacifica had entered the city limits of Piedemont. She glanced up from the printed directions she’d made, eyes peeled for the names of the unfamiliar streets as she navigated through the twisting tangles of business districts and residential areas until she spotted the subdivision of two story brick houses she recognized from the satellite view of the online map.

Pacifica’s stomach churned unpleasantly as her car drove at a slow crawl down the street of near identical homes and the changing addresses marked on the mailboxes felt like a count-down as she drew closer to the Pines family residence.

_Too late to turn back now… I hope this was a good idea._

After all the stress and anticipation the house itself was pretty anti-climactic, just another two-story brick box in a neighborhood full of almost identical brick boxes, with nothing in its outward appearance to show that it was home to the weirdest people that Pacifica had ever known. She parked across the street alongside a house with a prominent 'For Sale’ sign, feeling almost like a stalker as she glanced over at the house again. She gave herself a once over in the rear view mirror and grimaced at the sight - nearly eight straight hours of driving and a day without a shower weren’t doing her face any favors. She dragged out the process of re-applying her makeup, using a small dusting of powder and an artfully applied sweep of color to hide the tired lines under her eyes and bring the color back to her drawn out cheeks.

 _Alright, no more delays now that I finally look human enough to face them,_ Pacifica told herself firmly after she was satisfied with her work.

She nervously brushed out the wrinkles in her shirt, cursing the fact that she hadn’t been able to change into a new outfit since the start of her drive. The sound of the blood pounding in her ears intensified as she drew closer to the front door of the house, her hand hovering hesitantly over the doorbell for a few heartbeats before she jabbed her finger down.

The time seemed to stretch on forever, but it must have been only a few seconds because before Pacifica could press down on the doorbell again she heard the sound of footsteps slamming on tile and stepped back in surprise as the door was flung open.

“Paz!” a strange figure screamed excitedly at a pitch normally only audible to bats.

“Mabel?” Pacifica asked, half unsure of the answer.

She’d been imagining the meeting during most of the drive, trying to figure out what to say (and perhaps more importantly what not to say), but none of her mental scenarios had involved Mabel greeting her at the door wearing an enormous bristling fake mustache and with a paisley tie wrapped around her forehead like the bandanna of an 80’s action movie star.

“Oh man, what are you even doing here?” Mabel asked, a wide brace-free grin gleaming out from under the distracting layer of face fuzz.

“Um… I was sort of in the neighborhood I guess,” Pacifica said lamely, all her careful preparations gone out the window.

A movement out the corner of her eye caused Pacifica to duck instinctively and a neon yellow foam dart sailed through the air, grazing Mabel’s shoulder and passing over Pacifica’s head. Mabel clutched at herself dramatically and dropped to her knees, a plastic gun falling from her hands and clattering across the tiles.

“Dipper you cheat,” she growled through a horrible fake cough, “I thought… I thought answering the doorbell was supposed to be a time of truce.”

Pacifica glanced up in growing confusion to see Dipper Pines, the overly serious for his age and bookishly nerdy Dipper Pines, coming toward the foyer with an identical plastic gun in his hands, bare chested and with black stripes painted across his cheeks like war paint.

“War is hell sis,” he said with a grin, giving the toy gun a playful twirl around his finger.

The cocky smile fell from his face the second he recognized Pacifica giving him a bemused stare and waving her fingers at him slightly in greeting.

“You… you aren’t the pizza guy,” he said with a flush coming to his cheeks.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Pacifica said with a barely supressed snort of laughter.

“I… um… I’m going to go put a shirt on,” Dipper said quickly, shuffling out of sight as Pacifica’s eyes unconsciously followed his progress out the room.

“So what brought you so far out from Gravity Falls? Are your parents thinking of buying California to turn it into a new extra large swimming pool or something?” Mabel joked.

Pacifica’s attention snapped back from her brief look at the retreating Dipper and she felt her cheeks grow hot.

“Actually I’m here by myself, my parents are still back at the manor,” she said, her eyes carefully avoiding Mabel’s.

“Oh man, and they let you come all the way down here on your own for the weekend? I am so jealous - our folks barely trusted me and Dipper enough to leave us alone here while they are off at our aunt Jo’s wedding. It’s like they thought we might not be responsible enough to take care of the house for a few days or something,” Mabel said, blowing a loud dismissive raspberry at the very idea, her fake mustache askew on her face.

“Yeah, I can’t imagine how they would ever get that impression,” Pacifica said with a small smile.

“So how long are you going to be in town for? I mean, school starts back up again on Monday unless I’ve forgotten an extra holiday somewhere or something,” Mabel said, peeling the gumball machine mustache off her upper lip completely unselfconsciously and stuffing it into the front pocket of her baggy teal sweater.

“I’m probably just going to be around for the day… I mean, I do have to get back home eventually too,” Pacifica said.

A sound off from inside the house caught Pacifica’s attention and she glanced up to see Dipper coming her way with a slightly faded old t-shirt on and with his cheekbones smudged grey from hastily wiping off the warpaint that had decorated his face a few moments ago.

“Well, we’ve got a pizza coming in - it probably isn’t up to your usual standards of cuisine but you’re welcome to join us,” Dipper said with a smile, only the slight reddening at the tips of his ears showing the sign of his earlier embarrassment.

Pacifica felt her stomach clench hard at the mere thought of a hot meal and it was only with her very firm self control that she managed to not jump up for joy.

“Thanks, pizza does sound pretty nice,” she said mildly as Mabel shut the door behind her and lead Pacifica into the house.

* * *

Pacifica forced herself to stop eating after the third slice, though she gave the box a longing look as she nibbled at the last thin rind of crust in her hands.

“So… is that your first time ever eating pizza or something?” Mabel joked mildly after she had watched her normally fussy blonde friend tear into the hot cheesy mess with an almost frenzied look in her eyes.

“Of course I’ve had pizza before… it was just a really long drive, that’s all,” Pacifica said with a defensive sniff, dragging her wandering eyes back from the box once again.

After her last few 'meals’ of nothing but convenience store snacks and energy drinks to keep her awake on the road the pizza had tasted like purest ambrosia, and her stomach growled loudly at the thought of having just one more slice.

 _Nope, I’m putting a stop to this now_ , she thought to herself, _I already went through almost half of their lunch like a starved tiger._

“Whats on rich people pizza anyway? Do you guys eat it with like, cloned dinosaur meat instead of pepperoni?” Mabel asked as she nibbled on her own slice.

Pacifica wrinkled her nose slightly at the thought, though in her current state of hunger she couldn’t help but imagine what a tyrannosaur tartare might have tasted like. Maybe with some clarified butter or the right sauce…

She could feel the pressure of eyes on her, pulling her out of the dining car of her train of thought. Pacifica glanced to the side and noticed Dipper looking at her intently, an expression on his face that seemed somewhat familiar.

“Do I have some cheese on my face or something?” she asked him, dabbing lightly at the corners of her mouth with a paper napkin.

“No it’s… never mind,” Dipper said with a slight shake of his head, “I was just thinking about something else.”

“Well since you’re in town we gotta go do something fun - there’s no point in wasting a perfectly good Saturday afternoon at home when we’ve got company!” Mabel said with a wide grin.

“Um, sure that sounds good,” Pacifica said as she recalled her extremely limited funds, “what did you have in mind? I don’t know much about this town.”

“It’s just your usual suburb, nothing too special. I’m sure Pacifica is tired after her long drive, so maybe we should just stay in tonight and watch a movie instead?” Dipper suggested to Mabel mildly, his eyes darting back at Pacifica for a brief moment.

“What? Pffft, c'mon Dipper - this is Pacifica here, this girl can still party after almost getting roasted by vengeful lumberjack ghosts, do you really think a drive would be enough to slow her down?” Mabel said.

“Yeah, I should be fine Dipper,” Pacifica said, a slightly strained smile on her face.

Dipper glanced at her, one eyebrow quirking up slightly before his face returned to placid calm and he shrugged.

“Alright then, if you guys want - but we’d be missing out on the chance for a pretty great monster movie marathon,” Dipper said with a shrug.

“We can do that some other time Dippingsauce, for now lets go show our guest the wonders of Piedemonts’ artistic and cultural scene,” Mabel said in a terrible imitation of a snooty British accent.

“Are you talking about the arcade?” Dipper asked flatly.

“Not necessarily,” Mabel said, her fake accent tapering off as she shot Dipper a glare.

“An arcade sounds like it could be fun,” Pacifica chimed in quickly.

_Games just cost a few quarters right? That shouldn’t be too bad._

“Awesome! I was just bluffing about all that art and culture stuff - its really either the arcade or the movie theater around here,” Mabel said with a laugh.

“Well, I wouldn’t worry too much about that, I mean its not like Gravity Falls is exactly the French Riviera,” Pacifica said.

As Mabel darted her way up the stairs to grab some things, Dipper sidled his way across the couch closer to Pacifica.

“Hey, are you doing alright?” he asked quietly.

She frowned slightly, unsure of how to interpret his expression.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly.

“Alright, just asking. It’s been a while since we’ve gotten to see you,” Dipper said.

Pacifica’s expression softened slightly. She wasn’t used to this… the concern on his face. The expression was almost alien to her experience, but she felt safe enough here to let down a bit of her usual reserve.

“Well, I’ve missed seeing you guys so I decided to take the car down - that’s all,” Pacifica said finally.

Dipper looked like he was going to say something else in response but before he could open his mouth a loud cry from the second floor interrupted him.

The pair turned to see Mabel taking the stairs down two at a time, a look of breathless excitement on her face.

“Guys, I just had a major brainstorm – forget the arcade!” she said.

“Alright, whats the new plan then?” Dipper asked.

“Minigolf! It’s perfect- me and Pacifica both enjoy it and you’ve gotten a lot less terrible at it lately too.”

“C'mon Mabel, all this flattery is going to give me a big ego,” Dipper said dryly.

“What do you think Paz – we could have a little three-way game for old times sake? Me and Dip already checked out the local course a few years ago and its 100% Liliputtian free.” Mabel beamed.

“We set out some traps just in case though,” Dipper added with a nod.

Pacifica’s mind jumped back to the wallet in her purse, thoughts racing as she tried to calculate if she had enough in her budget for a game.

 _God its so **weird** having a budget_, Pacifica thought to herself. Just the word itself tasted strange in her mind.

She felt a sinking sensation start deep in her gut when she realized that even if the games here cost less than the ones at the Discount Putt-Hut, which was highly unlikely, that she might not have enough money left afterwards to make the trip back home.

She turned to Mabel, trying to find some reasonable excuse for why the game wouldn’t be a good idea but she couldn’t bring herself to do it after seeing the wide puppy-dog stare of Mabel’s eyes.

_Well… maybe I could find somewhere that might give me a little money for something else. There must be something left in my suitcase worth a bit of fast cash._

“Yeah, minigolf sounds like a great idea,” Pacifica said quickly to cover the beat of hesitation that had crossed her face,“I’m probably a little rusty though,”

“Perfect, that means that I might have a chance this time,” Mabel said.

“I’ll drive us,” Dipper said, “You’ve already been on the road all day so I imagine the last thing you would want to do is get behind a steering wheel again right now,”

“Thanks,” Pacifica said, giving him a small smile, “and you’re definitely right about that.”

Pacifica took the opportunity to change into a more suitable outfit for spending time outdoors at the twins house, glad to finally shrug herself out of her wrinkled shirt and jeans and into some less travel worn clothes. She had given the shower a hopeful glance but couldn’t find a convenient excuse as to why she’d want one and had finally decided against it – perhaps she could see about taking one after they got back from the course if it wouldn’t seem to weird or suspicious.

As she exited the upstairs bathroom she bumped into Mabel who gave her an oddly penetrating look.

“You know, I hadn’t noticed earlier but there’s something different about you today Paz,” Mabel said, tapping her chin idly with a finger.

Pacifica felt her heart jump slightly in her chest at the sudden scrutiny.

“Is it your hair? Did you get it cut differently or something?” Mabel asked at last, tilting her head slightly as she gave Pacifica another appraising glance.

Pacifica’s hand went up to brush against the long straight blonde strands and she felt a sudden pang of self-consciousness. If her hair looked any different than usual it was probably because she hadn’t taken her regular trip to the Northwest family stylist in the two weeks since she’d left home. The fringe of her bangs had started to grow slightly more into her eyes than it usually did and she’d noticed a few damaged ends in the mirror as she had changed into her fresh shirt and skirt.

“Yeah, I’m just trying out a new look,” Pacifica said.

_There’s no way she’s buying that. I look like a wreck._

“Neat,” Mabel said, “it looks good on you!”

“Um… thanks?” Pacifica replied.

Pacifica was almost certain there wasn’t any sarcasm intended – Mabel had a mean streak in her, but it wasn’t anywhere near as wide as her nice streak.

_Maybe she honestly does think I look nicer like this? I mean, she does have kind of a weird sense of taste._

As Pacifica made her way down the stairs she felt a lightness in her step that had been missing for a few days – there was something about the atmosphere of the Pines house that she could practically feel in her skin. She knew that she should be feeling tired after her long drive but a hot meal and the thrill of seeing her best friends again after almost a year apart had been extremely energizing.

* * *

 

It was a short trip from the Pines house to the course in Dipper’s rattling old sedan. The car looked like it had seen better centuries, but Dipper had seemed fairly proud of it and Pacifica had restrained herself from making a few good natured jokes since she didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

Pacifica had felt a knot twist in her gut when they had neared the entrance of the golf course but before she should reach for her purse Dipper had stepped forward and pulled a brown leather wallet from his back pocket.

“The games are on me today guys,” Dipper said.

“What’s with the sudden burst of generosity?” Mabel asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I got paid this week, so I just feel like splurging a bit while I’m still rich,” Dipper replied easily as he extracted a few bills out from the wallet and slipped it back into the pocket of his jeans.

“Are you sure? I can cover myself,” Pacifica said quickly.

Dipper gave her a quick flash of a smile.

“Hey, you’re our guest for the day, so let us treat you to something nice for once,” Dipper said.

“I guess that’s okay,” Pacifica said, feeling a combination of relief and embarrassment.

“If it really bugs you that much you can treat us to something next time we’re in Gravity Falls,” Mabel said, nudging Pacifica in the ribs gently after seeing the tension that had come into her face during the exchange.

“That sounds fair,” Pacifica said with a false smile.

Her mood dropped a bit at the mention of Gravity Falls. Nice as the afternoon had been so far she was still just delaying the inevitable while she was here.

Still, even that reminder of her eventual destination wasn’t enough to keep her down in the face of the twins infectious energy. The afternoon air was crisp and clear, the course wasn’t overly crowded and Pacifica found herself starting to relax once again. She was frustrated at first at missing a few easy shots early in the game, especially when Dipper had managed to tie her score at the very first hole, but as she continued to play she felt herself start to relax as she let her old instincts take over. Pacifica enjoyed the feel of the weight of the club in her hands and her muscles began to remember the familiar play of arms, shoulders and hips all acting together in a single fluid motion.

It had been a few years since she’d been on a minigolf course, but Pacifica had genuinely loved the game when she had first played it as a child and that hadn’t changed. The fact that she was good at it because of all the years worth of practice that she’d put in had always been a matter of pride to her, and Pacifica felt its warm glow in her chest again when she made her first hole-in-one of the day at the giant gorilla. Before long Dipper had been left far behind on the scoreboard and Pacifica and Mabel were neck and neck, tossing friendly trash talk back and forth as they tore through the course while he offered color commentary on the side.

In the end Pacifica didn’t even really mind that she lost the game by a few strokes - it was still the most fun that she could remember having in the longest time. Some small latent competitive part of her mind had winced internally seeing that she hadn’t come in first, but she had managed to suppress the feeling with relative ease… though she still decided that as soon as she got the chance she’d see about practicing heavily once again before inviting Mabel along for a friendly rematch.

Mabel had planted a small sticker of a wide-eyed puppy which declared Pacifica to be “D'aaw-some!” on her shirt as a consolation prize, and though she pretended to accept it only grudgingly she was secretly glad to see that Mabel still carried around her seemingly limitless collection of stickers and trinkets with her. Dipper had also been given a slightly manlier dinosaur sticker of his own after having come in dead last with a score about a third as good as the girls, but he’d taken it all with a surprising amount of good humor.

She gave the course a last look over her shoulder as the trio made their way back to Dippers car in the parking lot. Pacifica really didn’t consider herself the sentimental sort but she wanted to have a firm memory of the place in her mind – it could come in handy later when moments like this were in short supply.

* * *

“So how long have you been away from home?” Dipper whispered, his eyes scanning the room in a seemingly casual way.

Pacifica felt the lump of half-chewed hamburger seem to swell up in size as her mouth went dry. She gave a painful swallow and her eyes narrowed into glittering points as she stared back at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Dipper,” she said in a voice like ice.

“Look, Mabel isn’t going to be in the bathroom forever so we don’t have a lot of time to talk - I get that you might not want to open up about this but please don’t act like I’m an idiot, okay?” he replied.

She stared back at him, her eyes betraying nothing but her nails clicking out a nervous tattoo on the scratched up plastic tabletop of the restaurant booth. The Burger Duke near the golf course where they had stopped to eat after the game was still nearly empty, and even if it had been packed to capacity no one in town would have recognized Pacifica anyway. For all intents and purposes they were alone – her secret still relatively safe. She felt the knot of tension squeezing her chest relax its grip, her shoulders slumping slightly somewhere between relief and resignation.

“How did you know?” she hissed quietly.

“It was the little things - you hadn’t called us ahead to let us know you were coming, your control freak parents barely ever let you out of the mansion in town much less all the way to a different state and don’t take this the wrong way but you looked a little less 'Northwest’ than normal.” Dipper said.

“What’s that last part supposed to mean?” Pacifica asked, her nostrils flaring slightly.

“You looked like a regular person - wrinkled shirt, hair a little out of place, slightly chipped nail polish… you weren’t wearing a single bit of jewelry either, which I’d never seen before. Normally you look like you just got out of posing for a catalog shoot or something and it all just sort of added up,” Dipper said.

“Looking kind of hard weren’t you Pines?” Pacifica said, a slight note of grudging admiration in her voice.

“I like mysteries, I can’t really help that,” Dipper replied with a shrug.

Pacifica’s nails tapped out another quick beat. Even if Dipper had suspected the truth about her visit he’d made sure not to out her in front of Mabel… She knew she could trust him.

“I left home about two weeks ago. I was just… I don’t know. Tired. Tired of home. Tired of living like an unwanted guest in my own house.” Pacifica said quietly.

“What are you going to do now?” Dipper asked.

“I wasn’t lying when I said that I was going to go back after I left here. I didn’t really have a plan when I ran away and blew through almost all of my money already… if you hadn’t paid for the golf game I probably couldn’t have even afforded this burger,” Pacifica said with a slightly hysterical bite of laughter as she held up the half-eaten sandwich.

_A Northwest eating from the value menu. If this wouldn’t make my father disown me I don’t know if anything would._

“Is there… I don’t know, is there anywhere else you could go? Some place other than your parents house I mean.” Dipper asked.

Pacifica’s eyebrows raised in surprise. Of all the reactions she would have expected from Dipper this wasn’t anywhere near the most likely.

“Not really. All my 'friends’ in town have parents that work for my dad, so staying with any of them would just be a one-way ticket back to the manor,” Pacifica said.

“How about other relatives?” Dipper suggested.

“Even less helpful. Our branch of the family has all the cash, and my aunts and uncles would probably ship me back home in a heartbeat for a little chunk out of my inheritance. They might even gift-wrap me.” Pacifica said, her voice only slightly bitter.

“Hey guys, what are we talking about all serious-like over here?” Mabel asked cheerfully as she slid into the booth beside Dipper, glancing between the two with a wide grin on her face.

“Nothing too important - Pacifica was just telling me about some stuff at her scho-” Dipper began.

“I was telling Dipper that I ran away from home,” Pacifica said flatly.

_Since Dipper already knows I don’t care about hiding it from Mabel. It wouldn’t be right to keep a secret like this from just one of them._

Mabel’s eyes widened and a small frown spread across her expressive face.

“Jeepers… I just thought you guys were flirting or something,” Mabel said in a hushed tone.

“No, nothing like that,” Pacifica said quickly, though not without a fleeting afterthought that it wouldn’t have been unpleasant if that had been the case.

“So wait - your parents don’t know that you’re here with us right now?” Mabel asked.

“No, I’m pretty sure they don’t,” Pacifica said, “and I’m not really sure they care to be totally honest with you.”

“What? What makes you say that?” Mabel said in a sympathetic tone.

“I’m a rich blonde girl who’s been missing for two weeks and I’ve seen exactly zero news stories about me on the TV - tell me that adds up?” Pacifica said with only a hint of bitterness in her voice.

“Good point,” Mabel said with a grimace.

“I won’t be missing for much longer though. If you guys don’t mind me just staying in your guest house for the night I can head back up tomorrow.” Pacifica said, slumping slightly into the cold plastic seat of the booth.

“We don’t have one of those actually,” Dipper said.

“Guest bedroom then?” Pacifica asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“There’s the downstairs couch, but if you’d rather not share it with the cat we can probably fit you into Mabel’s room,” Dipper said.

“That should be fine, ” Pacifica said with a shrug. It couldn’t be worse than sleeping in the backseat of her car again.

A dark cloud seemed to have settled over the booth as the three teens sat in silence, chewing on their burgers. For an afternoon she’d managed to forget about her upcoming return to the manor, but now it was all here out in the open.

_Maybe coming here was a mistake after all… it’s so good to see them again, but this is probably just going to make going back feel even harder._

“Hey um… do you actually want to go back home already?” Mabel asked.

“Well, it beats starving. I don’t really have anywhere else to go, ” Pacifica replied.

“You could stay with us for a while,” Mabel said quickly, “it doesn’t have to be for just one night.”

Dipper turned quickly to his sister and looked like he was going to protest but remained silent. Pacifica could hear his foot tapping the floor in a quick nervous rythm.

“You could actually,” he said in a slow thoughtful voice, “if you wanted to that is. I mean… why not stay with us for a bit?”

Pacifica’s breath caught in her chest and for a second she felt a warmth inside her that was unfamiliar but so satisfying. She felt the familiar heaviness settle over her chest again though when she thought about the idea – there was no real way to make this work that she could see.

“That’s probably not a good idea though,” Pacifica said hesitantly.

“All ideas are good ideas,” Mabel said confidently, “anyway… would you want to stay with us?”

“Well… yeah but I don’t want to be a bother or anything,” Pacifica said as she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat.

“Who said you’d be bothering anyone?” Mabel objected, “we’re the ones offering, silly.”

“I’m not going to get you guys into trouble for me – I just have to go home and tough it out till the end of the year. College is right around the corner, right?” Pacifica said.

“Well, why go back if you don’t want to though? Even if you staying with us might not be a really practical idea I still think its not a bad one,” Dipper added, “I mean… friends help each other out.”

“Yeah – plus how could you expect us to be okay with you being miserable up there when we can do something about it?” Mabel chimed in.

“You guys are really serious about this?” Pacifica said. Her eyes felt hot and she clamped her jaw tight to keep her lip from trembling.

“Deadly serious,” Mabel said with a ridiculously stern expression on her face as she reached out a hand to clasp Pacifica’s warmly.

The gentle pressure of Mabel’s fingers on Pacifica’s own was enough break down the last barrier to Pacifica’s reserve and before she knew what she was doing she had thrown her arms out around her friends shoulders and pulled them in close to her across the booth table. The warmth, the contact… their niceness were all too much for her to handle at the moment. After a few moments of peace Pacifica felt her usual self-consciousness return and she released her grip on the twins, sliding back into her seat with an embarrassed cough.

“Okay, well first things first then – we’ve got to figure out a plan,” Dipper said, his ears tinged slightly red for a few moments following the unexpected hug.

“Well obviously Pacifica’s gonna stay with me in my room – your room is pretty much a bio-hazard,” Mabel said primly.

“I wasn’t going to suggest she stay in my room,” Dipper said shortly, “and also my rooms not that bad!”

“It’s one dirty sock away from being declared a national emergency Dippingsauce,” Mabel said, “Pacifica should stay somewhere a little nicer.”

“You’re okay with giving up the space?” Pacifica asked Mabel.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been really missing having a roomie ever since that whole puberty thing kicked in and got this guy evicted,” Mabel said as she gestured over to Dipper, “Plus it would be like having a semi-permanant sleep-over.”

“I can see about paying you back for this later,” Pacifica mumbled under her breath.

“Paz, c'mon I’m not your landlord – we’re just going to be sharing. You remember how that worked right? Do you need me to get Bear-O and do the song again?” Mabel asked.

“No!” Pacifica and Dipper said in unison, a near identical look of blank horror on their faces at the thought of a repeat performance of Mabel’s unfortunate ventriloquist act.

“Sheesh, tough crowd for Bear-O around here,” Mabel said moodily before taking a long sip of her soda.

“Okay so the easy parts out of the way – now for the tricky one: explaining you to mom & dad,” Dipper said as he leaned back into his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose gently.

“I’ve got it! We could disguise her to look like me – it would be like having my own twin.” Mabel said confidently.

“You already have a twin,” Pacifica replied mildly.

“Okay, like having my own triplet then,” Mabel said with a dismissive shrug.

“Mabel that’s a terrible idea – and not just because you two don’t look, sound or act anything at all like each other,” Dipper said.

“Alright then smarty pants, lets see you come up with something better,” Mabel said with a sniff.

Dipper closed his eyes and sat back with his lips pursed in thought for a few moments.

“How do you feel about being tiny?” he asked Pacifica.

“Pfft, that’s the best you can come up with? Do you even still have the shrinky-crystal?” Mabel teased.

“What are you guys even talking about?” Pacifica asked.

“Never mind, Mabel’s right – its just a dumb idea. Waaay too many ways that one could go wrong, ” Dipper said as he chewed on a fry thoughtfully.

“Maybe we could solve it with time travel?” Mabel suggested with just a slight hint of mockery.

“No, if we’d done it that way then it probably already would have happened.” Dipper said flatly.

“Oh right… stupid time travel.” Mabel said with a snap of her fingers.

_Being tiny? Time travel?_

“God, you guys are weird,” Pacifica said, “Nice but completely weird.”

“Wait a minute,” Dipper said with a smile starting to dawn on his face, “I think I’ve got an idea that’s not completely idiotic!”

“Well don’t keep us in suspense bro-bro, what’s the plan?” Mabel asked, leaning in closer.

“Pacifica do you speak any languages other than English?” Dipper asked, turning quickly to Pacifica with an intent expression.

“Um… I know a little Italian, some Spanish. I guess French would be the one I’m best at,” Pacifica said, “though I haven’t used it in a while.”

“French sounds good, my mom took it in highschool so she thinks she can still speak it… French would probably work best as cover,” Dipper muttered to himself.

“You lost me here Dip, what’s the plan again?” Mabel said.

“Pacifica, how do you feel about being our brand new foreign exchange student friend from France?” Dipper asked.

“ _Tres bien_ ,” Pacifica answered with a grin.

“Don’t really know what that means but I’ll take it as a yes.” Dipper said.

“Aren’t our parents going to wonder why they never got a letter or anything about this before?” Mabel asked.

“It’ll be fine – we’ll just say we gave them the form ages ago to sign. They hardly ever remember this kind of stuff.” Dipper said.

“I think this might actually work,” Pacifica said, a note of excitement creeping into her voice.

“I can make you a fake ID and junk to make it look even more official – and I think I might have a beret and a stripey sweater somewhere in my closet,” Mabel said.

“The ID is really a good idea, but we should probably hold off on the beret and sweater,” Dipper said dryly.

“You know how to make fake ID’s? Where would you even learn something like that?” Pacifica asked.

“You’ve met Grunkle Stan before right? Trust me, fake ID’s are sort of the tip of the iceberg here,” Mabel said.

“We should still work out some more details on this if we’re going to pull it off right though, we’re not out of the woods yet,” Dipper cautioned.

“Dip, lets put a pin in the whole 'plan’ thing for now – mom and dad won’t be back till tomorrow evening so we’ve still got time to figure this out. We’ll all probably think a lot better after a good nights sleep,” Mabel said.

Pacifica nodded in agreement, all the exertions of the day finally starting to catch up with her.

“Alright, I guess you guys are right,” Dipper conceded.

“Okay then, lets all go home then,” Mabel said, giving Pacifica a friendly nudge in the ribs.

_Home. I guess this really will be home for me… at least for a bit anyway._


	3. Chapter 3

Pacifica had woken up on Sunday morning to find Mabel already awake and humming to herself at her desk just as she was putting the finishing touches on a rather elaborate looking fake ID. Mabel had handed the small plastic card to Pacifica with a smile and began massaging the life back into her cramped hand.

“Tell me what you think,” Mabel had said with a note of pride in her voice.

Pacifica looked over the ID with a growing sense of astonishment at the level of detail put into it. The card probably wouldn’t have passed a government inspection but it looked like it would be more than adequate to fool most people.

“Mabel this is pretty amazing!” Pacifica had murmured.

“Thanks! I think this might be my single best forgery yet,” Mabel grinned, “I used one of my old junior high ID’s for the card.”

Pacifica read the ID over a second time and she felt a small frown twist at the corners of her mouth when she started to read over the listed details.

“Okay, so I’m _Atlantica Southeast_ ’?” Pacifica said, glancing up at Mabel.

“Yeah, I figured we should go with something as far from Pacifica Northwest as we could get,” Mabel said, “to throw anyone looking for you off the trail.”

“Uh huh,” Pacifica said with a slightly skeptical nod, “and I’m from… Franceburg?”

“Yup,” Mabel nodded.

“Mabel, you do know there’s no such place as Franceburg, right?” Pacifica asked slowly.

“Oh don’t worry about it, no one actually reads the fine print on those things,” Mabel said with confidence.

“Not that I’m not grateful, but why didn’t you just use a real French city like Paris?” Pacifica asked.

“Paris is too well known, that would obviously look suspicious.”

“Unlike Franceburg?” Pacifica asked skeptically.

“Duh, it sounds so stupid that it has to be true!” Mabel said with a grin.

“Are you totally sure about that?” Pacifica asked.

“Yeah, people will go along and pretend they know all about the place if you bring it up because they don’t want to sound ignorant. If you want to have some real fun sometime just make up some sort of science-y sounding word and ask Dipper what he knows about it and watch him sweat for a while trying to see if he remembers if it’s a real thing or not,” Mabel said with a grin.

“Well… you’re the expert I guess,” Pacifica said with a shrug.

“Okay, now let’s start going over your backstory – you are the daughter of a simple cheese farmer, but you’ve been sent here to the far off land of America because it was the only way to escape your arranged betrothal to the evil Marquis of Franceburg,” Mabel began, her hands stretching wide in expansive gestures.

“I thought I was supposed to be a foreign exchange student?” Pacifica asked.

“That’s just your cover story – this part here is the real fake-truth,” Mabel said.

“So my cover story for running away from home is just a cover story for escaping marriage to an evil prince?” Pacifica asked.

“Marquis,” Mabel corrected, “and yes – the best lies are like stacks of pancakes, just when you think you’ve reached the end there’s a whole new one waiting at the bottom soaking in the syrup of deception.”

“What’s the Marquis’ name?” Pacifica asked, feeling compelled to learn more despite her better judgment.

“Oh shoot, I hadn’t thought of that part… um… he’s, uh… Guy de …von …um… Richjerk… van Evil… the Third,” Mabel said.

“That’s a lot of ‘von’s and 'van’s for a French aristocrat,” Pacifica said, feeling a grin starting to tug at the corners of her mouth.

“I dunno, maybe his dad was the Duke of the USSR or something,” Mabel said.

“How about we work more on the exchange student cover-story to my backstory first?” Pacifica suggested, not bothering to point out the number of flaws in Mabel’s last supposition.

“ _Fine_ ,” Mabel sighed, “but I didn’t even get to tell you the part about your secret loup-garou boyfriend who followed you across the sea yet,”

“I promise you can tell me all about it tonight when we go to bed,” Pacifica said sincerely.

“How did you sleep by the way? I know the old air mattress we’ve got isn’t that great but I hope it wasn’t too bad,” Mabel asked.

Pacifica gave Mabel a small smile – her friend had a snore like an industrial buzz-saw tearing into sheet metal and the mattress had started to deflate half-way in the night which had led to Pacifica having a disturbing dream of sinking into a pool of quicksand.

Compared to night after night in empty hotel rooms though…

“It was the best sleep I’ve had in a long time,” Pacifica answered honestly.

* * *

“Franceburg?” Dipper had asked incredulously as he glanced at the fake ID which Pacifica had handed him when she’d met him downstairs at the breakfast table.

“Trust me, any objections you’re thinking of I’ve already brought up to Mabel – she made a pretty good case for it though,” Pacifica said with a shrug, deciding it best not to mention the bit that Mabel had said about Dipper’s own gullibility.

“Well, it’s too late to do anything about the name now I guess – the inks already dry,” Dipper said with a sigh as he handed the card back to Pacifica.

Pacifica glanced up at the different boxes of cereal lined up along the top of the refrigerator and felt her stomach give an embarrassingly loud growl.

“So… um, could I-” Pacifica began, before Dipper cut in.

“Of course, you don’t even have to ask,” Dipper said quickly, reaching up to grab a box for himself and motioning for her to join him.

Pacifica gave a grateful nod and selected a box for herself without looking before taking the seat across from Dipper.

There were a few moments of silence that seemed to stretch out just a bit too long for comfort, the only sound in the room being the clink of the metal spoons against the bowls as they ate their cereal. Pacifica’s eyes darted up from her cereal at Dipper between spoonfuls of her dubiously healthy breakfast, always seeming to catch his gaze during that awkward instant when he had also been giving her a quick glance before they simultaneously dropped their eyes again.

“Dipper,” Pacifica said, her voice breaking the uncomfortable silence, “do you really think this is going to work?”

Dipper paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth and considered the question.

“Well, odd though it may seem my sister does have a real talent for forgery so the ID shouldn’t be an issue - as long as you can keep up with the ’ _oo la la’s_ ’ and the _'oui-oui’s_ ’ I don’t see any major problems,” Dipper said.

“Really?” Pacifica asked.

“Sure,” Dipper lied breezily, the first hint of nervous sweat showing on his brow.

“Are your parents really going to be okay with it though?” Pacifica pressed.

“Well what are they going to do? They can’t exactly ship you back off to 'Franceburg’ now that you’re already here at our place,” Dipper said with growing confidence, as if his arguments were also convincing himself.

“What if it is a problem though? I don’t want to get you and Mabel into any trouble with them just because of me,” Pacifica said, an unfamiliar note of hesitation in her voice.

“You’ve met Mabel, right? Trust me, the two of us have been in some kind of trouble since we were old enough to walk and she was strong enough to drag me along after her,” Dipper replied with a smile.

Pacifica returned his smile, though her lips quirked down once more with worry as she toyed with her cereal.

“Are you _positive_ that I’m not going to get you guys in huge trouble?” Pacifica said.

Dipper bit back the sarcastic response that had jumped into his mouth. From anyone else all the questions and demands for reassurance might have seemed unnecessary, but he’d had the distinct displeasure of meeting the older Northwest’s and it was easy to see why she was so concerned about possible parental repercussions.

“Look, don’t worry about it – I know you want to look out for us, but this time we’re going to be looking out for you,” Dipper said.

Pacifica felt a small smile tug unconsciously at her lips. She’d noticed over the years that Dipper always got this tone in his voice when he was trying to be Serious Dipper, and hearing it was actually a little bit reassuring. It didn’t exactly make her feel like everything was going to be alright, but if anything went wrong she knew that she actually had some very solid help in her corner this time.

“Thanks Dipper,”

“Don’t mention it… oh, I almost forgot – I have something for you.” Dipper said.

“Really?” Pacifica said, slightly surprised, “what is it?”

“Well, it’s not something new so much as something _changed_ ,” Dipper said in a somewhat apologetic tone and dug around in his pocket and extracted a small pink object which he placed very carefully on the breakfast table.

Pacifica craned her head closer and saw that it appeared to be a toy car.

“Thanks, I guess? I might be a little old for this particular present though,” Pacifica said.

“It’s actually your car,” Dipper said.

Pacifica quirked her eyebrow at him.

“It’s true, I went out last night and shrunk it down. Had to do it in the middle of the night so no one would report seeing a teenager reduce a car down to the size of a matchbox.” Dipper said.

“You _shrunk_ my car?” Pacifica asked.

“Yeah, I thought it wouldn’t exactly make a lot of sense for a newly arrived French foreign exchange student to have a car. It’s not like you could have driven here from France,” Dipper said.

“You shrunk _my_ car?” Pacifica asked again, still trying to process the statement. The words were all English but something was obviously wrong with her hearing because they weren’t making any sense the way he’d put them together.

_I mean, even with all the weird stuff I’ve seen I’m pretty sure no one can do that._

_Right?_

“It didn’t hurt it in any way – I mean, I was really careful not to ding it up or anything like that.” Dipper said defensively.

Pacifica turned back to the car sitting on the table, and when she squinted her eyes she could just make out the custom vanity license plates that had been installed a few months back. She leaned in closer and saw an extremely tiny can of energy drink in the cup-holder, smaller than a pencil eraser.

“You shrunk my _car_ ,” she repeated, feeling half dazed as she sat back in her chair.

“Mabel, I think I broke Pacifica – can you come down and help me?” Dipper called out toward the stairs with the barest note of panic starting to crack into his voice.

* * *

It took Pacifica a surprisingly short amount of time to adjust to the fact that she was now the proud owner of a car that was too tiny for even the smallest of clowns to use – though it had required a few minutes of patient explanation and several demonstrations of the shrinking flashlight in action for the truth to finally sink in.

Despite her up-close and personal encounters with ghosts and other bits of weirdness from her hometown she was still largely a skeptic at heart, and the fact that her mostly-normal friends apparently had a collection of bizarre and magical odds and ends which they’d taken home as souvenirs took some getting used to. After many assurances from Dipper that the shrinking process hadn’t hurt the car in any way, and that he could restore it to its original size anytime she really needed it, Pacifica was able to see his point that this was actually a very solid plan.

The rest of the time between morning and afternoon passed by distressingly quickly as the twins and their guest drilled themselves in trying to make sure their exchange student cover-story for Pacifica was as airtight as they could possibly make it. The fact that Pacifica spoke excellent French with an extremely pronounced Valley-girl accent had almost sent Dipper into a panic attack, but since they had already committed themselves to the deception there wasn’t really anything to be done about it.

“Mom and dad don’t have an ear for language anyway,” Mabel had reassured him with a dismissive wave of her hand, “they never recognize any of my impressions after all,”

Dipper decided it better to not mention that Mabel’s talent for impersonating voices was basically nonexistent, but she did have a point – anyway it had been years since his mother had to speak any French at all from her highschool courses. She’d probably be too busy trying to remember what Pacifica was saying to notice how she was saying it.

It was shortly after the trio had taken a break from all their drilling to get some lunch that the call came in on Dipper’s phone - his mother telling him that their plane had just landed and that they would be back home in less than an hour.

This was it.

Pacifica felt herself torn between fear and anticipation… the thought of staying here, among her two friends and far away from the ugly emptiness of her life at the Manor was almost too good to be true… and the fear that she’d be discovered as a fraud and shipped back up to a cold reception from her parents told her that it probably was.

Pacifica felt her stomach churn with nervousness but tried to keep her face as impassive as she could manage. Apparently her act wasn’t as convincing as she had hoped it was because she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand settle down on her shoulder and give her a friendly squeeze. She turned and felt a brief but genuine smile flash across her face when she saw that the hand belonged to Mabel who had come up behind her and was giving her a huge grin and a friendly thumbs up.

“You’ve got this one Pacifica – don’t worry about it,” Mabel said confidently.

Pacifica wasn’t so sure, but they’d already come this far and it seemed a shame to waste all the preparation they had made together by just giving up.

“Atlantica,” Pacifica reminded Mabel.

“Ah, right,” Mabel said a little shamefacedly, “It would be kind of silly to go through all this trouble and then slip up by just blurting out your real name wouldn’t it?”

“Don’t worry Mabel, you’ve got this,” Pacifica said as she gave her friend a friendly squeeze on the shoulder of her own with a playful sparkle in her eye.

“Sometimes I forget that you can be kind of a butt,” Mabel said with a false pout.

“Always happy to remind you,” Pacifica replied.

“Are you sure you don’t want the beret? It just doesn’t feel right doing this whole French student ruse without a beret,” Mabel said, eyeing Pacifica speculatively.

“It might be just a tiny bit over the top,” Pacifica said delicately, “but you could wear it if you want – you could be pretending that you want to make me feel more at home.”

“Oh man that’s a great idea! I’m going to go change,” Mabel said, dashing up the stairs once again.

Pacifica watched Mabel disappear up the stairs with a feeling of consternation.

“She takes a little getting used to as a roommate,” Dipper said after catching the look of surprise that had flashed across Pacifica’s face.

“You managed somehow for a few years - got any tips for me?” Pacifica joked.

Dipper tapped his chin thoughtfully with his knuckle for a few moments, his eyes narrowed in a frown of concentration.

“Pretty much the best I can give is to try and relax – you can’t really predict exactly what she’s going to do, ever, but you can learn to figure out a few of her patterns if you don’t let yourself get too stressed out,” Dipper said.

“You sure you aren’t exaggerating just a bit there?” Pacifica asked.

Dipper raised his hand, one finger lifted to ask for silence. The gesture irked Pacifica, but she grew interested when she heard Dipper counting down under his breath from three, and when he reached 'one’ she heard Mabel calling down from upstairs.

“On second thought, the beret by itself is a little too plain and I want to jazz it up a bit. What do you think – fake little mustache, yeah or nay?”

“Nay, a thousand times nay,” Dipper called back up.

“You people have no sense of style,” Mabel groaned back at him.

Pacifica turned to Dipper and made a silent hand-clapping gesture while he took a bow.

“Thanks again,” Pacifica said once Dipper had made his final flourish.

She felt an unexpected stab of shyness as she said the words. Sincerity was still a fairly unpracticed skill for her in her day to day life back home.

Dipper suddenly stiffened up mid-bow and Pacifica’s head darted up when she heard the faint sound of a car travelling up the street. She shot Dipper a questioning look and he gave a tight-lipped nod that let her know that he recognized the sound of that particular vehicle.

 _Parents_? She mouthed to him, not sure why she was whispering since the car was barely at the end of the block judging by the sound.

He nodded again.

Pacifica gave a small shudder, feeling like someone had suddenly replaced her spinal column with ice.

Suddenly she knew that this just wasn’t going to work. She hadn’t practiced enough. The plan was stupid. She was putting her friends at risk for no reason.

“Dipper we can’t do this,” Pacifica said quickly.

“Pacifica - just trust us here,” Dipper said.

“I do trust you guys, but this is just-” Pacifica stammered.

Dippers hand reached out tentatively and grabbed her own in a tight grip, and Pacifica felt the unfamiliar warmth as he gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“If you trust us, then just trust that no matter what happens we’ll be here to help you out. Just give it your best shot here and it will be fine,” Dipper said, shooting her a slightly shaky smile that didn’t look as determined as he’d hoped it had.

Pacifica jumped slightly when she felt her other hand caught in a soft grip and she turned to see Mabel standing beside her with a knitted beret perched jauntily on her head and a small curly mustache slightly askew on her upper lip.

“Ready to meet our folks - Atlantica?” Mabel asked, emphasizing the fake name with a conspiratorial grin.

The sound of footsteps coming up the driveway and a key scraping against the lock set Pacifica’s heart to pounding, but she gave the twins hands a squeeze back before pulling herself out of their grip and then taking a deep breath and lightly slapping her cheeks twice.

_Dipper’s right. Mabel’s right too. This idea might not work, but I know that it definitely wont if I don’t at least go in and give it my best try._

The door opened up and Pacifica caught her first glimpse of the Pines parent’s, her mind doing that strange double take that sometimes happens when greeted with a situation that is both familiar and unfamiliar at once. She’d never met the people standing in the doorway before, but she unconsciously spotted little details about them that she recognized instantly – the shape of Dipper’s ears in his father, the small button nose a perfect match for Mabel’s on their mothers face and the blend of other features that made the strangers here seem almost like family.

The two stopped in the doorway and shot a questioning glance Pacifica’s way before turning to Mabel, but before they could open their mouths to ask their children what was going on Pacifica flashed a 1,000 Watt smile from her face and walked toward them with her arms flung wide.

“ _Bonjour_!”

* * *

“Oh my god I can’t believe that actually worked,” Mabel said with a sigh as she slumped against the door to her bedroom, lightly flinging the beret from her head vaguely toward her laundry hamper.

 _Me neither_ , Pacifica thought to herself as she lay with boneless exhaustion across the slightly deflating surface of the air mattress that sat in the least inconvenient spot of the floor in Mabel’s room.

“Mom looked pretty impressed by all the French stuff you were babbling at her – though I think what really sealed the deal was when you kissed both of her cheeks and started thanking her and Dad in super bad English for letting you stay here,” Mabel said with a note of genuine admiration in her voice.

Pacifica flushed slightly at the memory – the truth was that her mind had blanked at the sight of her friend’s parents that all the careful rehearsing she’d done with herself earlier had gone out the window. Instead of the meticulously planned speech that she’d worked out she’d ended up winging it and doing every stereotypical French tourist thing that she’d ever seen in a movie or TV show at once. Pacifica was sure that her own parents would have seen through a ruse that transparent in seconds but fortunately the Pines family was a bit less well traveled and she’d been accepted warmly, though Pacifica had noticed a few surprised glares shot Dipper and Mabel’s way when the full exchange student story came out in the open.

It had worked out just like Dipper had guessed though – even if her presence here was a surprise the bewildered Pines parents couldn’t exactly send poor Atlantica Southeast back to the small village of Franceburg, so she was here to stay till the time when her exchange was up. No one was quite sure when that was going to be since Atlantica had accidentally had her exchange student schedule papers eaten by one of the farms dairy goats according to Mabel.

Pacifica lay back in the sagging air-bed, her head in a whirl over the way the past few hours had passed. She’d been so worried that she was going to choke – all the negative thoughts and possibilities had been swirling through her mind ever since the night when they had first decided to try out Dipper’s plan to hide her here that she still couldn’t quite believe that everything had somehow worked out for the best.

 _I’m going to have to get used to being called 'Atlantica’ while I’m here_ , Pacifica reminded herself.

She gave a small frown once again at the thought of the alias that Mabel had selected for her.

_I can’t understand how anyone would believe that was my name – who on earth would name a kid something as dumb as 'Atlantica’?_

“Paz? Earth to Paz…” Mabel stage-whispered to her from amidst the pile of pillows and stuffed animals that littered the top of her bed.

“Huh?” Pacifica responded, shaking herself out from the mini-funk she’d been in.

“You had kind of spaced out there for a second. Doing some heavy thinking?” Mabel asked.

“Not really, just trying to unwind a bit after that whole deal with meeting your parents,” Pacifica replied.

“I told you that you didn’t have anything to worry about with them – even when they try to be all stern and stuff they are really just big pushovers,” Mabel said.

“You don’t think I might have been a bit overboard with my act back there?” Pacifica asked, a note of worry in her voice.

“A bit? You were a baguette and a ’ _sacre bleu_ ’ away from being labelled a walking hate-crime,” Mabel said.

Pacifica winced.

“Was it really that bad?”

“It went just a bit beyond subtle,” Mabel said slowly before brightening up, “but it looks like it all worked out though!”

“I really hadn’t planned on taking the whole performance that far, I just panicked,” Pacifica admitted.

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to keep up the act for long – I’m sure hanging out with me and Dip will manage to Americanize you in an amazingly short period of time,” Mabel said with a grin.

“Well, I do need to start practicing my English now that I am staying in _Amérique_.” Pacifica replied.

“That’s the spirit!” Mabel said.

Pacifica felt a matching grin start to spread across her own lips in response to Mabel’s enthusiasm. Despite all of the stress she’d felt earlier she couldn’t deny that the encounter had been exciting.

The plan that she had made with the twins had only really covered as far as tricking their parents into letting her stay… they’d never actually covered how things were going to go after they’d actually succeeded. Pacifica saw the future stretching out in front of her now, unknown and uncontrolled for the first time in as long as she could remember.

And for the first time in as long as she could remember she was finding herself excited to find out what lay in store for her next.


	4. Chapter 4

The most bizarre part of Pacifica’s new life as Atlantica Southeast was how normal things felt.

Life in the Pines household wasn’t anything like what she was accustomed to back home at the Northwest manor, but though it wasn’t perfect she had found the changes all to be extremely agreeable. Instead of being seen as a burden, the Pines family seemed to have made a space for her that she found herself fitting into with surprising ease. Sharing a room with Mabel felt a bit cramped compared to having her own (much larger) room back at her parents’ house but the experience of having a roommate was something totally new for Pacifica and she found that she really enjoyed it. Despite Dipper’s earlier dire warnings about Mabel’s unpredictability, Pacifica had found Mabel’s eccentricity to be charming rather than annoying.

_Well, mostly charming anyway._

_Only mildly annoying at worst._

Either way, after the rather severe and lonely environment she had grown up in it seemed almost sinfully decadent to have someone around to talk to or hang out with whenever she felt like it.

Not that it took much prompting to get Mabel into a conversation of course. Looking anything less than ecstatic around the bubbly brunette tended to draw her in like a magnet, eager to see what she could do to bring a smile to your face. At first Pacifica had thought that Mabel had been doing this out of pity for her situation and had resented it a little, but a few days of observation had shown that she just seemed to behave that way around everyone that she cared about.

Keeping up with the foreign exchange student act had also become a little more natural over time as well. At first Pacifica had agonized over her every word, trying to make sure she kept up her French accent at all times. She had even tried to intentionally limit her English vocabulary as best as she could in case she slipped up and brought the whole charade crashing down on her friends heads. Just last week however she’d accidentally spoken completely naturally in front of Dipper and Mabel’s mother and instead of being denounced as an impostor and thrown out of the house like Pacifica had feared, she had just been complimented on her excellent grasp of English.

Pacifica had been so relieved that she’d just managed to say a quiet ’ _Merci_ ’ in response before she had slowly retreated up the stairs to Mabel’s room to hyperventilate for a few minutes.

Enough time had passed though that the sting of the incident had faded from her mind, and now she thought back on it with a smile. In the end she had decided that it was a good thing that it had happened since knowing that she could slip up now and then without immediately suffering for it allowed her to relax more easily into the role.

* * *

Pacifica wrote her real name out without thinking at the top of the worksheet and then gave a small grunt of frustration when she immediately realized her mistake. She quickly rubbed out the offending letters and wrote in ‘Atlantica Southeast’ in their place, trying to add a flourish to the unfamiliar characters to make them seem more natural. Obviously even two straight weeks of practice signing the alias hadn’t been enough to erase the habits of a lifetime, and she always made sure to double check any assignment that she turned in just in case she accidentally gave herself away.

It never hurt to be too careful when you were a fugitive.

 _Well, calling myself a fugitive might be just a bit over the top_ _,_ Pacifica admitted to herself.

_Most fugitives probably don’t have to do Calculus homework._

Pacifica turned her attention back to the assignment and set to work on the first problem, only glancing back occasionally at the notes she’d made in class. Math had never been one of her favorite subjects to study but she had developed a knack for it after all the private tutoring sessions she’d gone through back home. Her favorite of the tutors had once told her that the essence of math wasn’t just manipulating numbers, but instead it was about teaching a particular way of thinking. It was all about learning how to take the information you were presented with and then re-arranging it to make sense, step by step.

It had made the subject seem a lot more interesting, but that still didn’t make it much fun.

“Hey Lan, when you get done with your work do you think you could help me with mine? If I flunk one more test the teacher threatened to send me to night classes,” Mabel asked suddenly, breaking Pacifica’s concentration.

“Sure,” Pacifica said. “And stop trying to make 'Lan’ a thing. 'Paz’ was already hard enough to get used to,”

“Lan is totally going to be a thing,” Mabel said with conviction, “Anyway it wouldn’t make any sense to call you 'Paz’ if your name is supposed to be Atlantica,”

“It barely made sense to call me 'Paz’ in the first place,” Pacifica grumbled quietly as she turned back to her homework.

Another mental adjustment that Pacifica had to make was the fact that Mabel never referred to her as Pacifica. Apparently she thought it would be easier to stay 'in character’, as she put it, by only calling her Atlantica. Lately though she seemed to have taken to trying to find a nickname that would fit with Pacifica’s alias. Pacifica had been grudgingly forced to admit that even if 'Lan’ wasn’t a very good nickname that it was at least better than Mabel’s earlier attempts of 'Atla’ or 'Tica’.

Pacifica worked quickly, her pencil gliding easily along the page as she solved the various problems. Only a few of the later ones ended up giving her much difficulty, but a quick glance back at the textbook had reminded her of a crucial part of the formula that she’d forgotten. Re-armed with that knowledge she made short work of the rest of the assignment.

“I’m done with my stuff if you still need help with your math,” Pacifica said from her space at Mabel’s glitter encrusted work desk.

“I definitely still do,” Mabel groaned from where she lay stretched across the bed, her nose inches from her Algebra II textbook as she glared at it accusingly.

Pacifica crossed the short space between desk and bed, craning her neck to look over the section her friend was working on. Mabel glanced up at Pacifica and then patted the space beside her on the bed companionably with a smile. The grin was returned slightly nervous and Pacifica gingerly sat herself down beside Mabel, stretching out along the bed on her stomach so that they were side by side with the book spread open between them. The coverlet stretched across the bed under Pacifica was still warm with body heat, and felt extremely cozy in the chill air of the room.

If Pacifica had to admit to a complaint about the Pines household it would probably be the fact that they kept their homes air conditioner at temperatures that she felt were better suited for storing ice cream instead of people. After a few nights of staying there she had decided that Mabel’s love of sweaters wasn’t so much a weird fashion quirk as it was a survival instinct, and she had ended up asking her new roommate if she could borrow a few. Mabel, of course, had taken the opportunity to knit her several of the life-saving garments of her very own in addition to the ones she loaned Pacifica. The sweater that Pacifica was currently wearing was done in the blue, white and red of the French _Tricolore_ flag, with a small Eiffel Tower picked out in sparkling silver yarn in the center of the white band.

As Pacifica started looking over Mabel’s doodle-filled worksheet she felt the bed mattress rock gently underneath her as Mabel scooched herself closer.

Pacifica fidgeted internally, but quieted down the sensation and turned back to the work at hand.

This had been one of the most difficult things for Pacifica to adjust herself to – the very physical closeness the Pines seemed to have with each other, especially Mabel. Pacifica hadn’t considered her parents to be abusive, though Mabel and Dipper seemed to disagree with her strongly on that point. They had never struck her or anything as overtly violent as that anyway. They also hadn’t really hugged her much either, and outside of posing for family photos for the local paper they seemed reluctant to even be too near her or even one another. Expensive easily wrinkled suits and delicately applied makeup all seemed to provide the perfect cover to avoid actually touching another person and Pacifica had grown used to a small smile from either of her parents as being the ultimate non-monetary expression of affection. Sometimes Pacifica wondered if she had been conceived by telepathy considering her parents apparent disapproval for any human contact outside of her father’s handshakes with his business partners and her mother’s hovering not-quite-on-the-cheek kisses that she shared with the friends that she cordially detested.

Living at the Pines household had definitely come as a shock to the system in that aspect since she’d already gotten more hugs after her first week living here than she could remember getting over the course of the rest of her life combined. Mabel seemed especially fond of them, and if she actually had a concept of personal space Pacifica had yet to see evidence of it.

“So, what parts are you having the most problems with?” Pacifica asked, turning her attention back to the assignment as a way to distract herself from Mabel’s still-unfamiliar closeness.

Mabel turned back to the paper, removing the pencil that she had been balancing between her upper lip and nose and jabbing it viciously at the fifth problem on the page.

“It’s this function stuff – I can do the easy ones, but once they get all long and super complicated like this my brain just goes _pbbbbbt_ ,” she replied, punctuating the sentence with a short raspberry.

Pacifica looked closely at the problem on the worksheet and then turned to the open textbook to refresh her memory of the section. Mabel’s personal notes were usually less than useful for these things, though the drawings were often pretty fun to look at.

“You can’t let yourself get scared when you see a complicated problem – what you have to do first is see how you can make it simpler,” she said, and Mabel craned her head in closer as Pacifica began to lay out the problem step-by-step for her.

By the time the last stray variable had been accounted for Mabel was practically pressed cheek to cheek with Pacifica as she had moved in even closer to not miss any of the steps.

“Geez, you manage to make this look really easy,” Mabel said, “Now I feel even sillier for not getting it.”

“It all just comes down to practice,” Pacifica replied, “Just go back and re-read if things start to get confusing and eventually it will all click together for you,”

“I guess so,” Mabel said in a skeptical tone.

She tugged slightly at the book and Pacifica passed the worksheet and pencil back to Mabel as she started working her way through the next problem. Every now and then she’d pause and turn to Pacifica who would nod along when Mabel was on the right track, or occasionally stop her and correct a small mistake before it could grow into a large one.

By the time Mabel was done with the eighth problem she was solving them on her own without any assistance. Pacifica shifted slightly, about to roll off the side of the bed now that her help was no longer required but Mabel gave a small sound of protest and Pacifica stayed put instead and started absentmindedly doodling a few drawings of her own in the margins of Mabel’s notebook while humming tunelessly to herself.

“Thanks for the tutoring help,” Mabel said, breaking the peaceful near silence, “You’re actually way better at it than Dipper is – I just get even more confused when he tries to explain this stuff,”

“He’s a really smart guy, but he does kind of have a habit of over-complicating things,” Pacifica agreed, “There’s no need for thanks though- I mean, you guys are giving me a place to stay, so helping you a bit with math homework is a really small trade.”

“I guess so, but the thought of having to do extra math just sort of makes my skin crawl,” Mabel said only half-jokingly, “To tell you the truth I’m not sure why you’re even doing homework in the first place. It kind of sucks a bit out of the fun of running away from home don’t you think?”

“Well I still want to graduate too, so it’s a good idea not to let myself fall behind,” Pacifica pointed out, “and besides Dipper went to all the trouble of helping to get me set up at your school so it would be ungrateful of me to just slack off.”

“I still feel just a teeny bit guilty about that,” Mabel admitted.

“I thought you guys said that altering a few memories wasn’t _too_ harmful?” Pacifica asked.

“Well, if it’s just a _few_ yeah,” Mabel said, “but I think Dip may have had to put in a little extra work on the principal to get him to go along with the idea. I mean, he had to make him forget our school doesn’t actually have a student exchange program for one thing.”

“Oh,” Pacifica said quietly, starting to feel guilt tugging at her own mind.

Mabel turned back to her friend with a slightly panicked look on her face.

“Don’t worry though! Dipper said he’s gotten a lot better at fine tuning the memory eraser so that it doesn’t have as many long term side effects – plus the principal was always kind of a butt before and now he’s a lot more fun!” Mabel said, giving Pacifica a comforting pat on the back.

_I seriously had no idea just how much work they’d had to do just to get me set up here,_ _Pacifica thought to herself._

_A fake ID, a place in their home, spots assigned to me in their classes… they really went all out with this._

“Well, if you’re really sure that it won’t hurt him or anything like that then I guess it wasn’t that bad to do,” Pacifica said.

“I’m sure that if it was actually harmful then my bro wouldn’t have done it,” Mabel reassured her, “It’s not really his style to go around hurting people for no reason.”

Pacifica nodded and felt a bit of her earlier guilt lighten. Mabel knew her brother better than anyone, so she was likely right about this.

They turned their attention back to the remainder of Mabel’s math assignment and in a short time Mabel had finished penciling in the solution to the final problem. She glanced up at the ticking eyes of the cat-clock on her wall with a grin when she saw that she’d managed to finish today’s homework in almost half the time that she usually took.

“Lan, you’ve saved my evening!” Mabel exclaimed.

“ _Il n'y a pas de quoi_ ,” Pacifica replied with a touch of pride in her voice.

“Huh?”

“It was nothing,” Pacifica clarified.

“It most certainly was something,” Mabel objected “Any time that I don’t have to spend face down in my textbooks is a time for celebration!”

Pacifica felt the beginnings of a smile tug up at the corners of her lips. Mabel tended to find causes for celebration as often as most people took breaths.

“Did you have anything special in mind?” Pacifica asked.

Mabel rolled onto her back and stared up at the plastic glow-stars that had decorated the ceiling of her room since junior high, idly kicking her feet in thought.

“Well, we could see if Dip’s up for a movies-and-videogames night when he gets out of work?” she suggested.

“That works for me,” Pacifica said with a grin.

A sharp pang of hunger that she had been ignoring over the past half hour suddenly made itself extremely noticeable, and Pacifica felt her cheeks flush pink when her stomach gave a loud growl.

“You should probably take five for some food though first,” Mabel suggested, “You have been thinking for two for a while after all.”

Pacifica rolled off the edge of the bed and made her way to the door, pausing at the door frame to glance back at Mabel.

“Aren’t you going to want anything to eat?” she asked.

“No thanks, I’ve got enough secret candy stashed around here to last me through three apocalypses if necessary,” Mabel replied, fishing around under a pile of stuffed animals for a package of concealed graham crackers.

Pacifica gave a shrug at that and made her way downstairs. Mabel’s ability to live on a sprinkle-based diet was a mystery that not even Dipper had been able to get to the bottom of.

* * *

Though Pacifica had managed to more or less fend for herself while she had been living on the road she hadn’t actually ever cooked a meal until she had come to stay with the Pines family. Mabel and Dipper’s parents both worked extremely demanding schedules at their jobs, which meant that the twins had learned to be mostly self-sufficient at a fairly young age. For every one meal that the family had all shared together since Pacifica had arrived there were at least three where it had been the kids left to their own devices, with Dipper and Mabel usually playing rock-paper-scissors to see who had to do the cooking for the night.

It wasn’t long before Pacifica had started to feel guilty for relying entirely on her friends to feed her. Her parents’ prohibition against accepting hand-outs had implanted itself deeply into her mind at a young age, and she became determined to learn how to cook as well so that she could contribute. Of course Pacifica had only a vague idea of how food came to be at first since she had been firmly discouraged from spending too much time around the servants’ areas as a child. It would never have done for the daughter of the Northwest family to have become too familiar with the little people after all.

Mabel had been especially encouraging of Pacifica’s determination to learn the new skill, even after her first solo attempt at making a meal for the trio had resulted in the long scorch-mark that now marred the surface of the wall just behind the stove. Dipper had managed to explain the disaster to his parents by saying that Atlantica, being French, was used to metric stoves and had been unfamiliar with the settings on American appliances. As far as explanations went it was pretty weak, but Pacifica had been surprised to see how quickly it had been accepted without question. A small bitter part of her mind had also noticed that her friends’ parents genuinely seemed to be much more concerned with making sure that no one had been hurt in the incident, and they hardly made any fuss about the damage at all.

Today Pacifica wasn’t in the mood to try and make anything complicated, despite the growing confidence she’d had in her most recent attempts which had been merely odd tasting instead of completely inedible. She dug around through the pantry for a few minutes, sorting through the various cans and boxes until she’d decided on a large can of chicken soup.

Canned soup was something that even Pacifica would have been hard-pressed to ruin, but she had decided not to take any chances and kept her eyes glued firmly to the pot to watch for the first sign of smoke. She had been so intent on the task that when she heard the sudden sound of footsteps ringing out on the kitchen tile right behind her she had ended up jumping up startled, whirling around with the large soup ladle held menacingly out in her hand.

“Sorry,” Dipper said quickly at the sight of Pacifica’s frightened appearance, his own hands held out open in front of him to show that he was unarmed and had no cooking utensil of his own to threaten her with.

Pacifica felt her cheeks flush hot with embarrassment at her own overreaction and she quickly turned around to give the still-cold soup a quick stir with the ladle as if that had been her intent the whole time.

“When did you get back?” she asked, still not turning to face Dipper until she was sure that the heat in her face had cooled sufficiently.

“Just a few minutes ago,” Dipper said, a note of weariness in his voice, “We ended up being short-staffed again so I helped cover for an extra half a shift until a real replacement could come in,”

“So you decided to cheer yourself up by sneaking up on me then?” Pacifica accused while flashing him a quick smirk.

Dipper slumped down into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, rolling his head about on his neck and rubbing at a sore spot in his shoulder.

“What can I say? We all have our vices,” Dipper said in his dry deadpan tone.

“Do those vices currently include hunger?” Pacifica asked, stirring again at the soup now that she had seen it start to bubble.

Dipper paused before answering, his eyes unconsciously drifting toward the burn mark seared along the stove wall.

 _What the hell, it’s not like eating Pacifica’s cooking is anywhere close to the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done_ , he thought, feeling a bit guilty with himself immediately after the words had popped into his head.

“Yeah, I didn’t get a meal break during my shift so I’m kind of starving right now,” Dipper said.

“Well the soups almost done, and there should be plenty left over since this can apparently feeds two and a half people. I’m not really sure where we can find a half a person to give the extra soup to though.” Pacifica said.

Dipper smiled to himself at the silly tone of Pacifica’s last comment. Close association with Mabel seemed to have been rubbing off on her more than she realized.

“Well, if we can’t find one then I’ll take their share - I feel like I have one and a half empty stomachs right now anyway,” he replied.

The soup had only very slightly burned by the time that Pacifica had snatched two bowls out from a nearby cabinet and ladled the contents of the pot into them. She passed the heavier bowl over to Dipper, who accepted it with a look of gratitude and a slight wrinkling of his nose from the scent of scalded chicken noodles.

“ _Bon appetit_ ,” Pacifica said before digging into her own bowl.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, with only the sound of spoons clinking against ceramic to break the quiet of the house. Once the soup had cooled enough that they no longer had to concentrate to avoid burning themselves they relaxed and fell into conversation and Pacifica could see some of the tension drain out of his face. After the meal the two took their bowls to the sink and started washing up - well, Dipper washed and Pacifica dried. The finer points of the scrubbing brush continued to elude her and Dipper preferred to eat his meals out of dishes that didn’t still have bits of dried food stuck to them. Halfway through the chore Pacifica decided to steer the conversation around to something that had been on her mind for a while.

“Dipper, do you like your job?” Pacifica asked after he had just finished telling her an anecdote about a strange customer who had come into the restaurant that day who had left the entire kitchen staff absolutely furious about the fussiness of their order.

“Um… I guess? A job’s a job, right?” Dipper said with a shrug.

“Well, you just don’t seem to say much about it except for things that annoy or frustrate you,” Pacifica replied.

“Waiting tables doesn’t really provide much material for stimulating conversation I guess,” Dipper said.

“I guess not,” Pacifica said, turning back to running the drying cloth over the bowl in her hands.

There was a brief lull while she took a pause to try and line up her thoughts.

“Still, it can’t be all bad though, right?” she asked.

Dipper’s eyebrows quirked in confusion.

“It’s not the worst job in the world, yeah. Sometimes the tips can be pretty nice with the right customers. Why the sudden interest though?” Dipper asked.

Pacifica took a deep breath and breathed it out slowly.

“I was wondering if maybe… I don’t know, if you could put in a good word for me with your boss or something,” Pacifica replied quietly.

Dipper’s jaw actually dropped slightly in surprise at Pacifica’s unexpected request before he recovered and quickly shut his mouth again, hoping that she hadn’t seen his expression.

Dipper had never considered the possibility of Pacifica actually working a job before. He tried to picture his friend who had grown up in a house larger than the average junior high building taking meal orders and hauling huge trays of dirty dishes back to the restaurants own overflowing sink and his imagination completely failed him.

“What brought this on all of a sudden?” Dipper asked.

“I just feel kind of bad living here and sponging off your parents like this,” Pacifica said.

“They really don’t mind - seriously, we may not be billionaires but our family does pretty well for itself. We’re not going to lose the house because we decided to have a guest over,” Dipper said a shade defensively.

“That’s not the point though!” Pacifica objected, “It’s not about you guys not having enough money or anything like that. I just want to have some for myself too… some that I don’t have to ask anyone for,”

 _I guess I can see her point_ , Dipper thought.

_This is probably the longest she’s gone without having any money of her own to spend, and her parents didn’t exactly bring her up to expect much generosity._

“I’ll check around at work to see what I can do. The assistant manager and I get along alright, and we have been pretty shorthanded too so they might be open to hiring some new people,” Dipper said.

“Really?” Pacifica asked.

“Sure. You’ll probably have to apply as yourself and not 'Atlantica’ though since I don’t think they’d hire someone from France without a bunch of official government paperwork that none of us have. I don’t even want to try asking Mabel to fake any of that stuff in case we get caught, because that seems like something they’d be a bit angry about. Like, jail time angry.” Dipper said.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” Pacifica said, beaming a bright smile toward Dipper.

He’d noticed that smiles seemed to have been coming easier to her the longer she stayed here, and they seemed more natural as well. There wasn’t the same sort of tension around the eyes, that sense of being watched and judged that was sometimes glimpsed in her unguarded moments.

“Well, don’t thank me yet - you still haven’t gotten the job. I’ll pick up an application for you next time I’m there though,” Dipper said, shutting off the faucet now that the washing up was done.

Pacifica put the last dried bowl up in the cabinets and closed them with a firm click, feeling an odd sense of pride at that moment.

_I’m probably the first Northwest in a century who’s made food for someone else._

_Actually, I’m probably the first Northwest in a century who has made food, period._

_Or who even knows how to in the first place._

_My parents might act like they are above everything like this, but if you left them alone in a kitchen for a week with no servants they would probably starve to death. Without their money they wouldn’t know how to take care of themselves at all._

_I might be a disappointment as a Northwest, but at least I’m not as completely helpless._

Pacifica felt a small smile tug up at the corners of her mouth at the thought.

“What’s on your mind?” Dipper asked as he saw the faraway look come into Pacifica’s eyes.

“Oh, nothing really,” she said, “but I just remembered that Mabel had wanted to know if you were up for us all doing something tonight? She finished her homework early and was wanting to celebrate.”

Dipper gave a tired smile in response and a quick shake of his head.

“I would, but I’m completely exhausted after my shift. I think I’m just going to turn in early instead,” Dipper replied, his hand reaching up to squeeze the tension out of the muscles on the back of his neck.

“Okay, I’ll let Mabel know. I’m sure it’ll take her about five seconds to come up with some new idea for the two of us to do instead,” Pacifica said.

“Three seconds, tops,” Dipper corrected her.

The two made their way from the kitchen and stood together by the foot of the stairs leading up to the bedrooms, each unsure of who was going to head up first. Dipper paused and motioned for Pacifica to go and she moved to head up, but paused halfway up the first stair and turned back.

Dipper froze as Pacifica stepped quickly toward him and threw her arms stiffly around his chest, giving his torso a hard squeeze. He could feel the curves of her body pressed up tightly against him, her breath warm on his chest through the fabric of his shirt. Awkwardly, he reached his own arms around her and patted his hands against her back. Dipper felt the sweat start to bead on his brow and the tips of his ears begin to burn as the seconds ticked by, her own hands patting against his back in a strange counter-rhythm to his and no indication that she intended to let go anytime soon. He could smell the gentle floral scent of Pacifica’s shampoo with her head pressed right up under his nose and he had to give a quick shake of his head to clear the light-headed feeling coming over him. Dipper could feel a familiar rush of warmth in his chest and he gave a quick cough and pushed very gently but firmly on Pacifica’s shoulder before his reaction to the contact would become embarrassingly obvious to her. She darted back a step, her face beet red.

“Did I do it wrong? I held on too long again didn’t I?” Pacifica asked, a worried tone to her voice.

“Um, no that was… that was good,” Dipper said quickly, a stiff smile with too much teeth on his face.

“Okay. Sorry I just don’t have a lot of practice at this hugging stuff,” Pacifica said, “um… anyway, good night Dipper!”

Dipper watched Pacifica take the steps up at a brisk pace. He drew in a deep breath and then slowly blew it out again through his nose.

_She’s a guest here Dipper. She’s away from home and has nowhere else to go. It’s a really bad idea to start thinking… things… about her._

Dippers mind decided to rebel at the moment and he squeezed his fingertips against his temples to try and banish the sudden rush of thoughts involving Pacifica snuggling in closer to him, her lips drawing slowly toward his.

_Ugh, and I had thought that sibling hugs had already been as awkward as it could get._

* * *

“Are you feeling alright Atlantica? You look a little flushed there,” Mabel commented when Pacifica had returned to the room and closed the door shut behind her.

“It’s nothing! I… um… I just put too much pepper in the soup I made,” Pacifica improvised while the pink in her cheeks deepened to a slightly ruddier shade after she realized that it had been noticeable.

She was still feeling self-conscious over the disaster of a hug she had just inflicted on her friend. Pacifica was positive that she’d made Dipper uncomfortable too judging by that weird death-grin he’d had afterward. She tried to think back on what had gone wrong. Part of it must have been her lack of experience since there seemed to be some sort of timing to it that she just wasn’t getting so she probably held on too long again.

If she was being completely honest with herself she’d admit that wasn’t so much an issue of inexperience though as it was the fact that she hadn’t wanted to let go of him. Human contact seemed to have an almost addictive quality to her, and feeling Dippers arms tightening around her body was just so comfortable. She hadn’t even minded that his shirt was a bit damp from half-dried sweat. Thinking back on it, the mingled scent of salt and sharp deodorant had seemed to be oddly pleasant to her.

Oddly enough his stiff smile had seemed pretty endearing as well, though she wasn’t quite sure why that was so.

“Lan?” Mabel called out again.

“Huh?” Pacifica said, her attention snapping back sharply to the present.

“Did you see Dipper down there?” Mabel asked.

“I did. Yeah, he said that he was tired from work and was just going to bed already,” Pacifica said.

“Boo! All work and no play is making Dippingsauce an extremely dull boy,” Mabel groused.

Dipper had been right though, because after telling Mabel that her brother was unavailable for the evening she’d paused for the space of a few heartbeats and then decided that since it was just the two of them that it might be fun to have a girls-only night instead.

“Isn’t it automatically a girls-only night already since Dipper won’t be joining us?” Pacifica asked.

“No this is different – if we do it this way it means that he’s been forbidden to join in the fun, not that he decided to ditch us just because he’s feeling sleepy,” Mabel explained.

“I guess that makes sense somehow?” Pacifica said with a note of skepticism in her voice.

“Anyway I think that it could still be a lot of fun with just the two of us hanging out! We never really got to do any sleepover type stuff together when we were kids since your parents are kind of huge buttfaces. No offense,” Mabel said.

“None taken at all,” Pacifica said firmly.

It had been almost a month now since she’d first left home and the longer she stayed away the weaker the tense hold of the fear that had passed for respect for her parents had become. Buttface was a significantly more generous name than a few that sprung to Pacifica’s mind when she thought about them, particularly her father and his damned bell.

“So, what sort of things did you have in mind for this girls-night of ours?” Pacifica asked.

“Um… shoot, I hadn’t really thought this far ahead,” Mabel admitted, “I guess we’re a bit old for most of the usual sleepover stuff by now aren’t we?”

“Well, we could still watch movies at least,” Pacifica suggested.

“Alright, but we’ll watch them in our pajama’s so it at least feels a little sleepover-y,” Mabel said, hammering her fist in her palm for emphasis.

Before long the pair had found themselves sitting in a makeshift pile of blankets and pillows dumped in the center of the room while the flickering images on the computer monitor cast weird shadows over them. Mabel had decided that tonight’s entertainment was to be the extremely gory 80’s remake of _The Widdlest Wampire_ , which had the distinction of having some of the worst special effects that money could buy and a soundtrack that seemed to have been made by having the composer swat at a bunch of ants swarming over a cheap synthesizer keyboard.

The movie was 100 percent pure schlock, but for some reason Pacifica felt herself getting drawn into it. On the one hand nothing in the movie was nearly as terrifying as her own memories of being chased through her house by a vengeful lumberjack ghost, but on the other hand the fact that ghosts and monsters existed made horror movies seem a bit more real to her than she was sure they seemed to people who hadn’t had those experiences.

Apparently Mabel had become immersed in the movie too, because she ended up giving a small shriek during a particularly bloody jump-scare and ended up grabbing onto Pacifica in a hug so tight that it felt like a wrestling hold. Once the moment had passed Mabel gave her a sheepish grin and retreated back to her side of the pillow pile. As the movie went on and the tension ramped up onscreen Mabel had started to scooch closer to Pacifica once again, and Pacifica found herself doing the same. By the time the credits had started to roll the pair were sitting side by side with a single blanket wrapped tight around each of their shoulders. The bowl of popcorn that Mabel had made had sat untouched between them during the whole third act.

“Wasn’t the original sort of a kid’s movie? I don’t remember nearly that many decapitations when I saw the first one.” Pacifica asked as her mind travelled back to one of the more gruesome scenes she had just seen.

“I guess the director decided to take some creative liberties with the remake,” Mabel replied.

“No kidding,” Pacifica said with a barely suppressed shiver.

“Up for another?” Mabel asked, “I think I have the sequel somewhere – I heard that one was banned in Italy!”

“I think I’m all movie’d out for tonight,” Pacifica replied firmly.

“Fiiiine,” Mabel said with a sigh, crossing her arms and screwing her face up into a pout. “It’s almost like you don’t want to start off your weekend with some fresh new night terrors or something.”

“Well we could always do some other kind of sleepover stuff like you’d mentioned earlier instead,” Pacifica suggested.

That seemed to do the trick, and Mabel immediately broke into a wide grin.

“I like the way you think! What would you want to do first?” Mabel asked.

“I’m not sure, I’m not really an expert on this whole sleepover thing.” Pacifica replied.

“How about makeovers?” Mabel suggested.

Pacifica had a moment of utter shock imagining herself suddenly transformed by Mabel's… _unique_ … approach to style. The prospect seemed just slightly less scary than the movie she’d just finished watching.

“M-maybe,” she replied hesitantly.

“I’ve always wanted to see how you’d look with braided hair,” Mabel said, tilting her head slightly as she looked at Pacifica’s face.

Pacifica gave an inner sigh of relief. When Mabel had mentioned 'makeovers’ she’d had visions of facepaint and glitter… just braiding her hair seemed like she was getting off lightly.

Mabel’s face split into a grin when Pacifica approved of the plan and she set about grabbing various items from her nightstand before returning to Pacifica.

Pacifica shifted around in the pillows, trying to find a comfortable position to sit in while Mabel sat down behind her. She felt the light touch of Mabel’s fingers as they ran down along the length of her hair and the sensation was unexpectedly pleasurable. The touch of the bristles of the brush as Mabel gently swept it across her scalp and down the long golden strands was oddly soothing, and she couldn’t entirely suppress a pleasant shiver than ran down her spine at the feel of it. Pacifica was no stranger to having her hair brushed, but Mabel’s touch wasn’t anything like the sharp professional movements of the hairstylists that had previously seen to the job – there was something warm in her touch. She felt a small smile start to creep up unbidden as she relaxed. Mabel was humming a tune softly to herself as she swept the brush through, never tugging hard enough to jostle Pacifica from the feeling of dreamy peacefulness that had started to come over her. Mabel’s fingers trailed after the brush, deftly separating out long locks to begin the braid. The dull points of Mabel’s fingernails felt strangely pleasant against Pacifica’s scalp, and she briefly wondered if this was how a cat felt when it was being scratched behind the ears. She was sure that she probably had a similar expression on her face at that moment, but she was feeling too relaxed to feel self-conscious about it.

As quickly as the strange peace came it was gone when Mabel set the brush down and set to work on braiding the newly prepared hair. Pacifica felt the gentle tug on the back of her head as Mabel began to form the braid, and she resisted the urge to fidget as Mabel’s fingers twined and twisted the strands around. Pacifica recognized the new tune that Mabel had begun to hum as an old Sevral Timez song that Mabel sang at the top of her lungs some mornings in the shower and she began to hum along with her.

The song trailed off to an end as Mabel snapped an elastic hairband at the tip of the newly formed braid and leaned back to look over her work, giving a nod of approval at her handiwork. She passed a hand mirror up to Pacifica, who began to examine herself critically. She’d always thought that braids were a childish hairstyle, but the elaborate twist that Mabel had plaited into her hair actually looked almost elegant in its own way.

“How do I look?” Pacifica asked.

Years of participating in Ms. Gravity Falls pageants had left their mark on her mind, and some habits were ingrained pretty deeply so Pacifica had instinctively asked while turning with a dramatic flourish, her face set in a glamorous pout.

“It’s a good look for you,” Mabel said with a small smile. She tilted her head this way and that and reached out a hand to brush a few stray hairs behind Pacifica’s ear. Her fingertips lingered along Pacifica’s jawline, gliding along in a gentle stroking motion across her cheek.

“Really pretty,” Mabel said in a quiet voice.

Pacifica’s eyes moved up to meet Mabel’s and she saw an unfamiliar far away expression in her friends face.

Mabel seemed to notice Pacifica’s attention and she quickly jerked her hand away as if Pacifica’s skin had burned her fingertips and she shook her hand in an exaggerated gesture.

“Yup, just as I suspected – braiding your hair has made you too hot,” Mabel joked with a nervous giggle. Pacifica noticed that her cheeks had a slight flush to them and she felt a similar warmth rising to her own face in response.

“Weirdo,” Pacifica said with a smile as Mabel continued to gently blow air across her unburned fingers.

“That’s me alright – crazy Mabel, who knows what she’ll do next?” Mabel said in a goofy voice.

Something in her eyes didn’t quite match the light tone of her words but Pacifica couldn’t quite place the look.

“Well, the braid looks great. I’ve never had my hair like this before,” Pacifica said.

“I’m really glad you like it,” Mabel replied with a more genuine smile.

Some of the earlier nervousness had left her face and Pacifica felt herself relax more in response.

“Does this style have a name?” Pacifica asked as she examined herself in the hand mirror once again.

“Mhmm, a French braid,” Mabel said with a nod.

“A _French_ braid?” Pacifica asked, her eyebrow cocked.

“I thought it would remind you of your fake homeland,” Mabel said lightly.

Pacifica clasped her hands together and her eyes took on a misty faraway look.

“I do so miss the green hills of Franceburg,” she said.

“Do you ever get homesick though… you know, for your actual house in Gravity Falls?” Mabel asked.

“No, not really,” Pacifica answered honestly.

She had asked herself the same question a number of times and was always surprised to find that the answer never changed. Trying to bring up warm memories of Northwest Manor wasn’t easy, and even the bright spots that she found seemed dim compared to the usual drab coldness of the place. She missed aspects of her home, namely some of her old familiar possessions that she hadn’t been able to fit in her suitcase when she first left home but overall she was happier where she was now.

“Well, that’s good,” Mabel said, “Not that I’m happy about you not liking it at home or anything,” she added quickly, “I’m just glad that you’ve been liking it here,”

“Yeah, it’s been really great. Kind of weird to get used to, but great,” Pacifica said.

“For me too,” Mabel said.

“Really? You don’t mind me taking up half your space or anything?” Pacifica asked.

“No way! It’s been awesome having you here,” Mabel said with enthusiasm.

“Thanks,” Pacifica replied, feeling a small grin tug up at the corners of her lips.

Mabel returned the grin with one of her own, and Pacifica braced herself when she saw the slight wriggle of the shoulder that usually preceded one of Mabel’s spontaneous tackling hugs.

She’d guessed right, but even so she found it hard to keep her balance when Mabel had playfully lunged at her and folded her arms tightly around Pacifica’s torso to press herself cheek-to-cheek against her. Pacifica found her heart beating harder than normal in her chest at the warm contact, and she felt the first signs of a blush on her face when Mabel planted a loud smacking kiss on her cheek.

“Well you can stay as long as you like, okay? I don’t want to hear any more of this 'I’m being a burden’ junk out of you,” Mabel said sternly.

Pacifica nodded silently in agreement and took a deep breath once Mabel had released her python-like hold from her ribcage.

“I’ll try to cut back on that,” Pacifica promised once she’d regained her breath, gently rubbing her sides with a wince.

* * *

The rest of the evening had passed by pleasantly and Mabel had finally crashed to sleep a few minutes ago, giving Pacifica a final sleepy good-night kiss on the cheek before collapsing into her mattress with a flurry of snores.

Pacifica glanced up to make sure that Mabel was definitely asleep before she rummaged around her purse and grabbed the earplugs that she’d bought at the local grocery store a few days ago. She slipped them in and gave a contented sigh as Mabel’s loud rumbles were muted to a gentle hum. She leaned back into the soft hollow in the center of the air mattress and stared up at the glowing plastic stars speckling the ceiling.

Pacifica found herself thinking back on her earlier conversation with Mabel as she felt her eyelids grow heavy with fatigue.

_She said that I could stay as long as I like._

_I’m guessing forever probably isn’t an option. I don’t think they have summer-school student exchanges._

_Or post-highschool student exchanges either for that matter considering that this is our last year before college._

Pacifica frowned slightly at the thought.

_If I can get this job where Dipper works though and save some money of my own…_

_How hard can it be?_

Her sleepy brain flashed back to Dipper again, remembering the feel of his arms around her earlier and she felt a warmth bloom in her chest at the thought. That memory seamlessly transitioned into the memory of Mabel’s arms around her earlier that night and the feel of her lips pressing against Pacifica’s cheek, and she felt the warmth rise to her face in response.

_They’ve been really great to me…_

_I know I wasn’t always nice to them but the fact that they were able to overlook all that… I wonder if I would have been able to drop a grudge so quickly like that._

Her thoughts jumped lightning quick again to Mabel’s hands brushing through her hair, the feel of her hand caressing Pacifica’s face and the look in her eyes that she’d given her. Those large brown eyes that were almost identical to Dipper’s, and Pacifica recalled a few times during the meal they had shared when an expression identical to Mabel’s had flashed briefly in his own eyes at her when she’d laughed at a joke that he’d made or after she had playfully teased him.

_They really do care about me… like I care about them._

Pacifica sighed and gave a little shiver inside herself as her sleep-addled imagination suddenly took over her memories, lengthening her earlier embrace with Dipper at the foot of the stairs into something more… the awkward pause at the end was replaced with him gently pushing her back against the bannister and tilting her head up for a kiss. She accepted it eagerly, pushing up on the balls of her feet to lean into his lips and wrapping her arms around his neck for balance. In the space of a few heartbeats she suddenly felt the room shift around her and it was Mabel’s lips pressed against hers, waves of chestnut brown curls drifting down to lightly brush up against Pacifica’s face as Mabel pinned her back against the air mattress and planted a trail of kisses from Pacifica’s lips and down her neck.

Pacifica’s eyes snapped open and she found herself quite alone on her mattress, staring up at the fading glow of the plastic stars. She glanced over and saw that Mabel was lying just as she had been when Pacifica had first got into bed and she’d only moved in her imagination.

Her heart started to beat hard in her chest as the specifics of the short dream rushed back to her waking mind and she pulled the blanket tighter around herself.

_It was just a dream. Nothing actually happened._

Even as she drifted off to a dreamless sleep Pacifica wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or disappointed by the realization.


End file.
